


Trust

by coaldustcanary



Series: Savior Fair [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Episode: s05e14 Devil's Due, Gen, Implied Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan, Past Baelfire | Neal Cassidy/Emma Swan, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-28 19:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7653043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coaldustcanary/pseuds/coaldustcanary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As they descend into Hades' domain, Emma and Milah discover they share more than they might think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to AO3 2016-08-05 as part of a collection of shorter works, reposted as a one-shot work 2018-02-03. This was based on the [August 2016 OUAT Positivity Challenge](http://tlynnwords.tumblr.com/post/148107745380/once-upon-a-time-positivity-project-august-2016) Day 5 prompt, "Trust".

_This is Milah. And this is_ weird _, even by my standards,_  Emma realized _._

Though it might have been considered impolite, Emma found herself unable to stop casting her gaze sideways at the woman who paced alongside her as they descended into the twisting tunnels that led to Hades’ domain. Rumplestiltskin trailed them, his expression flat, even cold. Emma was under no illusion that he was here for any reasons but his own, but all things considered, the silence between them all was strangely comfortable. Milah had eyes only for the path ahead, her jaw set firmly and her pace brisk, and Emma stole fleeting, searching glances, not sure if she was searching for an echo of Neal in her features or some clue as to the nature of this woman Killian had loved and lost nearly two centuries ago.

Until now Milah had been a messy and mysterious construction in Emma’s mind, one sketched from Neal’s fears and forced smiles, Rumplestiltskin’s distastefully curled lip, and Killian’s half-healed scars and simmering anger. Emma had glimpsed the shade of her on the Jolly Roger, traced fingers over the letters of her name on her love’s arm, and tried not to think too hard about the mark this woman’s life – and death – had made on Emma’s own existence until this point, because goddammit how could she even begin to make sense of that? And now, here Milah was, a woman all at once determined and regal and sad and so very tired – Emma thought so, anyway, and she was no stranger to being sad and tired beyond measure herself – no longer simply tragedy or tale but a woman with a sharp tongue, hard eyes, and reasons of her own for coming along on this quest.

Emma kept looking, and then looking away. Milah’s reasons might be her own, but they were the least-mysterious thing about her. Emma had watched Milah’s face when she shared news of Neal, and if she knew anything about this other woman, she figured she understood at least a little of her feelings where her child was concerned.

“You love him.” Milah’s quiet murmur was pitched only for Emma’s ears, barely audible over the soft noise of running water that beckoned them on. The words didn’t have the cadence of a question, but Emma answered anyway, without hesitation.

“Yes.” She wasn’t certain whether Milah meant Neal or Killian, but it hardly mattered. When Emma risked another sideways glance, her searching look met Milah’s equally curious gaze. Though there were half a hundred confused questions churning in her mind, Emma swallowed them back with an almost physical effort.

“You can ask me, whatever it is,” Emma offered with a weary smile. “I owe you a lot more than honesty, and I don’t think we need to stand on ceremony at this point.” Milah blinked and jerked her head a fraction in surprise, but needed no further prompting.

“Tell me about my grandson?” It _was_ a question, this time, and Emma couldn’t help but nod with a fond expression.

“Henry is…amazing. He’s so smart, and so _good_. He’s also just barely a teenager and sometimes I think he’s the best of us, anyway,” she replied slowly.

“Us?” A variety of questions were implicit in that single syllable.

“Honestly? As difficult as this may be to believe, that awkward introduction we had up top barely scratched the surface of the weirdness that is my family. Our family,” Emma admitted. Milah’s pointedly arched brow prompted Emma to chuckle softly, but her amusement was short-lived. Screwing up her mouth into a brief graimce, Emma raked her fingers through her hair, trying to answer the heart of the other woman’s implied question in a way that was both meaningful and truthful.

“I gave him up when he was born, because I wanted him to have what I didn’t think I could give him as a messed-up teenage felon. Another woman raised him, and I only met him a few years ago when he found me. So I can’t take all or even most of the credit for the amazing kid he’s become. Regina loves him, and he loves her, and she is as much his mother as I am. More, in some ways.” Milah’s expression softened, even though she had returned her gaze to the path ahead as Emma spoke.

“That must be very hard.”

“It’s…complicated,” Emma allowed. “Maybe I could have been a good parent to him, even then, but that’s not what happened. But Henry is a good kid, and he has a bunch of family, however strange, who love him.”

“And where was Baelfire in all this?” Milah asked reluctantly. Emma let out a long breath, buying a bit of time.

“Also complicated. We were young and dumb and our luck ran out, and someone – who thought he was doing the right thing – pushed us apart before I even knew I was pregnant. I don’t…I don’t think he would have left me if he’d known about Henry. And N…Baelfire tried to do right by him when he did find out he had a son. He…” Emma shook her head, grimacing again. Milah’s brow furrowed, but she kept her silence as well.

“Look, there’s a lot I wish had gone differently in our lives,” Emma said finally. “But if I judged all the might-have-beens I’d lose my mind. I mean, if I had kept Henry and been his mother from the start, if Neal hadn’t been scared off, if we’d gotten our lives together instead of being juvenile delinquents…it’s a lot of ‘ifs’. But I know he loved me. God, he was the first person to ever really love me, and I loved him back so much. He broke my heart. He saved his father, and all of us – my whole family and a lot of other people. That happened. Good and bad, that’s more important than the what-ifs, I think.” They fell into a period of silence again as the path down narrowed and the strange cast to the light began to shift from a dull red to an unsettling green. Emma was forced by the tightening passage to walk ahead of Milah, the other woman just barely visible out of the corner of her eye, behind her only half a step, but her gaze a million miles away.

“Thank you.” The words slipped out before Emma could really think about them, and they seemed to let loose the rest. “I can’t imagine how weird this must be and I have no idea what else Rumplestiltskin’s told you about me or what’s happened, but thank you for helping me. Helping us.” Milah hummed a vaguely non-committal noise. It stung a little in the wake of Emma’s heartfelt admission, until Milah followed it up with a very softly murmured question.

“And why is he helping you find Killian, exactly?”

“I kinda blackmailed him,” Emma muttered back, hitching a shoulder in a halfhearted shrug at Milah’s suspiciously amused snort.

“And you trust him?” Milah’s blunt response suggested that she was sincerely concerned for Emma’s decision-making skills.

“Didn’t really have a choice, but no. There wasn’t time to spend researching an alternate route down here when…” Emma swallowed hard and shook her head. “I don’t need to trust him, just believe that he wants to get back to…” Shit. There was no way to do this tactfully.

“He’s… married. Uh, remarried.” _Smooth, Emma._

But Milah laughed, a pointedly unselfconscious snort dissolving into a dry chuckle.

“I’m sorry, it’s just, the look on your _face_ right now. Anyway, I know about that.” At Emma’s blinked confusion, Milah rolled her eyes.

“Cruella does love to go on, regardless of audience,” she explained. Emma’s face fell, and she stared firmly ahead rather than casting glances over her shoulder at the other woman.

“Admittedly, her stories have a very different context now,” Milah murmured, musing aloud.

“Emma, I’ve no room to judge anything you’ve done,” she added, her voice almost gentle.

“That’s…nice of you, but honestly, if _anyone_ has the right, it might be you,” Emma said tightly. Milah only smiled.

“I don’t think so. It’s like you said – there’s little point in dwelling on the past and the might have beens. That’s true for me as well, and I don’t even have a future, not really. I’ve had a lot of time to think about the past, but for all that it doesn’t change the fact that I won’t see my son again unless I do something about it _now_.” Milah cut off sharply, shaking her head as if she’d said more than she had intended.

“You will,” Emma said without hesitation.

“You sound very sure of that.” Emma’s heart ached to hear the wistfulness in the other woman’s voice. She found herself reaching for the ring hanging from the chain around her neck, clasping it tightly as she had so many times in the past weeks, finding strength in the familiar contours against her palm.

“Hope is worth holding on to. It’s something I’ve learned only recently, but…it’s important. I know you have no reason to trust me about this or anything else, but you should have – you deserve – hope.” Emma said firmly.

“Hope. A funny sort of thing to try to find, down here,” Milah observed as the tunnel widened suddenly before them and they emerged onto an unyielding stone ledge lit with a ghastly green glow from below. Shoulder to shoulder, they looked down into the swirling mass of lost souls swirling like water eddies in the unearthly river flowing steadily into the darkness ahead. Emma dragged her eyes away from it after a long moment, glancing sideways to find the other woman studying her, though what she was looking for, Emma couldn’t begin to guess.

“The trust is actually easier,” Milah finally said with an odd sort of smile.

“But I’ll try.”


End file.
